


Making a decision

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [156]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-13 16:16:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14116137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPGCitadel.





	Making a decision

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

Ryan's been going back and forth on this all day. He took an hours-long walk through the South African countryside, soaking up the stunningly lovely environment and trying to clear his head. He's excited when he stumbles on an open-air market not far from their rental house, and he selects a gorgeous pair of freshly caught and cleaned redbreast tilapia. He's tempted by the mottled eel - it's been so long since he's tried out an eel recipe - but he thinks of the appalled expression the menu would likely raise on Sam's face, and desists with a smile.

He wants to go to Ireland; god, does he want to go. The chance to work with Aidan and his producer again, the cachet of being featured on what is sure to be a successful album, the simple joys of _composing_ again, when it's been so long... Ryan wants all of that. And he knows that, if he's honest with himself, he's been neglecting his career in favour of Sam for a long time now. There hasn't been a moment of resentment, truly; he's never been so fulfilled as he has been this past year, nurturing his relationship with Sam.

But maybe it's time. Time for him to work a little harder on himself, take a step back and let himself become a fuller person. The problem with that, of course, is that the last time he tried to 'step back' - those few days biking in Vermont - it was a fucking disaster. And Ryan's not certain that it won't become one again.

Arriving home, Sam drops his bag by the front door and heads straight on through to the patio where he can see Ryan standing in front of the grill. Sliding the doors open, he flashes his lover a smile when he turns, wrapping his arms around Ryan from behind and peering over his shoulder. "Fish?"

"Yeah. You got your roast and mash last night, so tonight I got to choose," Ryan tells him with a grin, angling to flick his tongue over Sam's lips before turning back to the grill. "Your timing is perfect -- these should just be about ready," he says, peeking at the underside of one of the butterflied whole fish, checking that it's not starting to dry out over the flames.

"Hey, I wasn't complaining," Sam protests. "I was just saying... fish." He grins. "What are we having with them?"

"Potatoes," Ryan admits with a snicker. He carefully transfers the fish to a waiting plate, then puts the cover back on the grill. "And salad. Come on inside."

Following Ryan in and closing the screen doors behind them, Sam inhales deeply. "It really does smell good," he says, his stomach rumbling on cue. "Want me to get drinks?"

"That'd be great." Ryan lays the fish platter on the set table, then gets the potatoes out of the oven where he left them to keep warm. Every time he goes on location with Sam, it's a fun challenge to get accustomed to a new kitchen; he's pretty comfortable with this one now.

"Wine or beer?" Sam asks, checking the fridge.

"Beer's good." Ryan shakes up the salad dressing he mixed earlier, blending it, then puts the salad out as well. "How was your day?" he asks, taking a seat and watching his lover.

"It was good," Sam says, cracking open both beers and placing one in front of Ryan before sitting down. "Tiring." He grins. "I'm covered with bruises," he says, "and they were not got the fun way."

"Ooh, poor baby," Ryan says, but his tone of voice is only borderline sympathetic -- mostly it's just intrigued. "Why don't you show them off to me after dinner?" he asks, already starting to harden at the idea of his lover all marked up. "And I can give you a good rubdown." God, yes. It's been way too long since he's gotten to give Sam a full massage, something he delights in.

"That sounds brilliant," Sam says, poking at his fish with his fork before taking a bite. " _Mm._ That's delicious," he says, sounding almost surprised, but hey, they're almost intact, except for the fucking heads. He takes a sip of beer. "So... you talked to the guys at all about Ireland?"

The question sets Ryan on edge in an instant, although it's hardly unexpected. "I... yeah," he answers softly. "I rang Mitchell - that's Aidan's producer - and I told him I can only commit to a week and a half, not three weeks. I said it's a family thing. He wasn't thrilled about that, but..." Ryan shrugs. "They still want me there."

A week and a half. It sounds so much more do-able and Sam smiles, relieved. "So you're going?"

"Um. If that's okay with you." Ryan's not even trying to eat anymore, he's just watching Sam. Surprised by his lover's smile, and knowing that he's putting him in an uncomfortable position.

"Yeah. I mean, to be honest, I'd rather have you here," Sam says bluntly, "but a week and a half doesn't sound anywhere near as bad as three weeks."

Ryan nods slowly, absorbing that. "Okay," he whispers, pushing a piece of tomato around his plate with his fork. "Thank you. I'll get to work on the arrangements." Not to mention all the mental preparation he knows he'll need in order to be separated from Sam for that long.

Watching Ryan, Sam sighs. "Are you happy about going?" he asks, because it doesn't seem like Ryan is, and if he's not... 

Looking up at his lover, Ryan considers. "I want to go," he says after a long moment. "I wouldn't say I'm happy about it, if that makes sense. It's going to hurt like hell to be away from you." At least after the last time, he feels comfortable addressing the issue with Sam, out in the open. He finally got it off his chest - just how much he _needs_ his sir - and Sam didn't freak out about it.

Sam nods. "I hate the idea of you being gone," he says, taking a sip of his beer. "It's gonna be hard coming home here, this place empty. You'd better call me every day."

Biting his lip, Ryan nods. "Of course. Even if you don't answer, I'll still be calling just to hear your voice on the message." He quirks a half-smile, his stomach churning. "I was thinking..." _No_. As much as he's been chewing over the idea, he doesn't think he can speak about it aloud.

"What?"

Ryan blanches, then flushes hot in the next instant. "Um. You remember I had one of the winning entries for Citadel's hot chocolate competition, when they were doing their big party in Courchevel?" he asks, figuring he'll work his way around to the point eventually. "Even though we weren't there, they still let me enter. You know, with the ganache and the chili, like I've made for you?"

"Yeah?" Sam nods, not sure what Ryan's getting at.

"Um. My prize was, um." Ryan stares down at his plate, his hands fisted tightly together in his lap. "I have my choice. One of the options is to have a Citadel slave for 48 hours, you know, just for whatever, sex, or... not." He licks his lips and shrugs, trying hard to seem casual. "It could be just service, or whatever. Anyway, I thought maybe, while I'm away, for someone to take care of you..." It kills him to offer. But it actually hurts Ryan even worse to think of Sam being lonely.

"No," Sam blurts out, shaking his head, mildly horrified by the suggestion although he's trying hard not to show it. "Thanks, but no thanks," he says. "I don't need that. You can make me some dinners, label them like you did the last time, and call me like we said, but I don't need someone else here." Someone not Ryan.

Ryan exhales with relief, his shoulders slumping instantly as tension melts from his muscles. "Thank you," he says softly, meaning it with every cell of his being. "I... I had to ask."

Sam nods. "I know, and thanks for asking. I appreciate it. It's just... no," he says again, smiling a little. "What are the other choices?" he asks. "The prizes, I mean."

"Oh. Um, 48 hours at one of the resorts," Ryan answers, picking up his fork again. "Maybe we could sneak away in record time some weekend? Half a day to get there, half a day to get back... we could manage it in three days."

"Definitely," Sam says, returning to his meal now that things are settled. "You know where you want to go?"

"No, I hadn't even thought about it. But I'll start researching, for after Ireland. I'll lay out your schedule and figure out where you're going to be and when, and... we'll make it work." Ryan gives Sam a sunny smile.

Sam nods. "I'll need a break after this shoot," he says. "And so will you." It's not been a bad one, not by a long shot, but it's been a rough one, both physically and mentally, and it's only because he's had Ryan at home, waiting for him, grounding him when he walks in the door, that he's been able to leave work at work each day and not lose himself in his character and his plight.

"Okay." Ryan watches his lover for a moment longer, letting his breathing steady, finally. Then he gets up and takes his plate to the sink, scraping some small fish bones into the bin before washing his hands. "Not that I'm rushing you, but let me know when you're ready to strip down and let me climb on top of you," he says with an impish grin.

Shovelling a last large mouthful of potatoes into his mouth, Sam mumbles, "Ready." Holding his plate out to his lover.

Chuckling under his breath, Ryan takes the plate and quickly washes up. Then he heads for the bedroom to dig some massage oil out of a side pocket in his suitcase. They haven't had reason to use it in a long time, and Ryan's already hard just in sheer excitement.

Sam follows Ryan into the bedroom, stretching with a soft groan and a wince of pain as he pulls his shirt over his head and drops his jeans.

Ryan lets out a low whistle as he gets his first glimpse of Sam's leftovers from today. His lover is covered in big dark bruises, more than Ryan's ever seen on him before. "Wow," he breathes, touching his fingertips lightly to Sam's bicep. "Even your Wrath shoot wasn't like this. And then you had swords."

"I know, but they did the Humvee flip today and Brian and I decided to suit up and stay in," Sam says, checking himself out in the mirror over their dresser.

"You're going to get yourself killed," Ryan murmurs with a soft smile and a shake of his head. And that's saying something, coming from an adrenaline junkie like himself. He steps up behind Sam and wraps his arms - gently - around his lover, kissing the side of his throat. "You look completely gorgeous."

"You like this look, do you?" Sam says, leaning into Ryan's embrace, his eyes on them in the mirror.

"Mmm. Is that absolutely terrible of me?" Ryan asks, tracing his fingers lightly over Sam's abs. "I guess it's a hurt-comfort thing. Looking at you like this, I just want to kiss you and make it all better."

"It's not terrible at all," Sam says, even though he know it wasn't _really_ a question. "Maybe I did it in the first place to get your mouth on me." He grins.

"All that hard work? You sneaky bastard." Ryan laughs and tugs Sam towards the bed. "Come on, lie down. On your stomach," he says, beginning to pull off his own clothing so he can be just as naked as his lover.

"Yes, sir," Sam says, collapsing ungracefully onto the bed, elbows bent and his hands shoved under his pillow.

Ryan blows out a breath then lightly cups Sam's ass. "Look at that," he murmurs, unable to resist rubbing his hands over the delicious curves and just dipping a finger into the cleft. "I think your ass might even have gotten the worst of it." He grins, cheeky as hell, then carefully seats himself low on Sam's hips.

"You'll have to give it some extra special attention then," Sam says with a smile.

"Mmm, it will be my pleasure," Ryan replies, meaning every word. He drizzles massage oil onto Sam's upper back, then slides his hands through it and begins on his lover's shoulders. "So tell me all the gossip," he invites, slowly kneading at tight muscles. "Who's the biggest pain on set so far?"

"Kellan, but only because he's a big fucking puppy dog," Sam says, groaning with pleasure as Ryan works out the knots in his shoulders.

Ryan snorts a laugh. "Wants to climb into your lap for kisses and everything?" Come to think of it, that sounds like someone else he knows... He shakes his head at himself and strokes his fingers over the nape of Sam's neck.

Sam laughs. "No. Thank god. He's just so eager and wants everyone to be his mentor. Never shuts the fuck up."

"Hmm." Ryan's mouth twists into a smile, and he pictures it. "Just so long as he's not always trying to get into your pants," he teases softly, gently marching his fingers down Sam's spine.

Sam glances over his shoulder, groaning again as Ryan hits a particular tight spot. "He was the first day but I made it clear I wasn't interested."

"Son of a bitch," Ryan mutters, his brow furrowing. "What a fucking little tramp." 'Little' is hardly the word, of course; he's seen just as many pap photos of Kellan's biceps as the rest of the civilized world. He works his fingers into a knot of muscle, then shakes his head at Sam. "Lie flat or you'll twist your neck up again."

Sam laughs and wiggles his ass under Ryan. "You can't blame a boy for trying," he teases, doing as he's told and keeping his head on his pillow.

"Yeah, yeah," Ryan grumbles, but his lips twitch in a smile. He tightens his thighs, pinning Sam more firmly beneath his weight. "Don't get too admiring there, Worthington," he warns teasingly, trailing his slick fingers down the cleft of Sam's ass.

"Hey." Sam grins. "I know who I belong to," he says, cock responding eagerly to the tease.

Ryan smiles, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. He figures it should be obvious to anyone who really looks that he is completely and totally Sam's. But to hear Sam say that the ownership is mutual... it just makes him feel all gooey and warm inside.

And a happy boy is a very, very giving boy.

So Ryan slides down the bed and slips to kneel on the floor, and he rubs his slick fingers over Sam's hole again and again, massaging sensitive flesh.

"Oh, fuck," Sam breathes, spreading his legs a little wider, his hips angled back.

"You are so beautiful," Ryan whispers, mesmerized. "So hot. You turn me on so fucking much." Gently he spreads Sam's cheeks apart with his hands, and leans in to lick slowly over Sam's hole.

Sam groans against his upper arm, cock jerking against the bed, a small patch of wet beneath him.

God, that sound -- it just ties Ryan into knots. He moans softly and licks more, lapping at the entrance to his lover's body. And he drops one of his hands to gently rub at that sensitive spot behind Sam's balls.

Fuck. This time Sam makes a sound like he's been gutted.

 _Fuck_. Ryan whimpers and tugs Sam's hips back so there's a little clearance between him and the mattress, and shifts his weight so that he can push one finger, then two into Sam, curling them to rub against his prostate. With his other hand he begins to swiftly stroke his sir's cock, his own erection hot and rubbing against the bed.

"Ohh fuck," Sam groans again, fucking his cock through Ryan's fist, his ass clenching tight around his boy's fingers. "Jesus fucking Christ," he blurts out, grunting hard before he comes, so roughly his vision goes black with it.

"Oh fuck yes," Ryan mutters, grazing his lips over the curves of Sam's ass and waiting until his lover's muscles begin to relax before he pulls his hands away. "Oh my god, Sir." He needs his own release so badly right now, but he's overwhelmed by Sam's pleasure, so fulfilled that he could please his lover this way.

Sam grins. "Think you can hold on long enough to fuck me?"

Ryan blinks. "But you just came," he points out, surprised Sam would even suggest such a thing.

"So?" Sam laughs, shifting up onto all fours, his legs spread wide. "You can have my hand instead if you'd rather, or yours."

"I don't want to hurt you," Ryan murmurs doubtfully, but he can't fucking help the way his body responds at the sight of Sam like this. "Come here," he coaxes, trying to push Sam to his back. "I at least want to see your face."

Sam goes willingly even though he has to shift to avoid his own wet spot. "You just want my legs wrapped around you," he teases, pulling Ryan down and kissing him. "Fuck me. Don't worry about hurting me. Just fuck me."

"I do want your legs wrapped around me," Ryan confesses, like Sam has stumbled onto some big secret. "Anytime." He reaches out and snags a bottle of lube from the bedside table, quickly slicking his cock, then holding himself tightly as he fits the head to his sir's hole. "God, Sam," he whispers, tension stringing his muscles taut as he pushes just inside. Then he pushes even deeper with a groan.

"Fuck, yes," Sam moans, watching, focused on the feel of Ryan pushing inside him, his body stretching to take him in. "Feels so good."

"Liar," Ryan mutters, but he doesn't slow down a bit. Bracing on his elbows, he dips his head to kiss along Sam's throat, rubbing his lips over the stubble there. "I love you," he whispers, because sometimes he just can't tell Sam that _enough_. "God, I love you. Need you always."

"Not lying," Sam insists, wrapping his legs around his lover and gripping his ass to pull him still deeper. "And I love you too. So fucking much."

It's so damn easy for Ryan to lose himself in this: each deep slow slide into his lover's body, hot and slick and fucking intoxicating. Sam's hands on his ass feel so good, and it's not long before he's speeding up, the rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh loud in the still room. "Sir," he gasps, knowing that he'd better start begging for permission now, or he might not make it, "Please! Please let me come for you." _In you_.

"Do it," Sam breathes, digging his nails into Ryan's flesh. "Fill me, boy."

The order takes Ryan from _close_ to _there_ in an instant. He stiffens, his body rigid and his hips working frantically as he pours himself into his lover. It's fucking incredible, Sam taking him in and welcoming him the way he does, hot and perfect and right.

 _Fuck yes._ Sam shivers, his cock jerking between them, managing another few drops as his muscles clamp down around Ryan's cock, demanding it all. His hands slide up Ryan's body, into his hair, pulling him down for a kiss.

"Love you," Ryan moans into Sam's mouth. "Love you love you loveyou." He’s confident now that Sam can deal with it when he gets all melted and sappy as fuck like this, and it feels so damn good just to let his emotions out in the open. "You're mine. Mine mine mine." He rubs his cheek against his lover's shoulder.

"Yours," Sam agrees, smiling, holding Ryan close and loving every minute. "All yours."


End file.
